


Peace

by babbling_bug



Series: IH/R NSFW Ficlets [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1909878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babbling_bug/pseuds/babbling_bug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've known each other a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace

Ratchet leaned back against Ironhide's solid weight, enjoying the minute fuzz of static as their EM fields clashed and then slid into a comfortable sync. It was always calming to align his systems with Ironhide- he was steady and uncompromising where Ratchet was flitting to and fro, the haste defined by his function as a healer. There was always some place he had to be, someone he had to fix. 

It was nice to have someone keep him in the moment, with no other worries. 

Behind him, Ironhide hummed in contentment, twining their fingers together as Ratchet tethered their wrists together, exchanging interface cables. He could already feel the charge in the red mech; easily contained through vorns of practice, but still roiling just beneath his plating. Ironhide could be exceedingly patient when he wanted to be- especially if it meant teasing Ratchet for joors on end _(a constant push and pull and pause until Ratchet begged)_.

Ironhide chuckled, shifting him against his chest plate; with their firewalls already down, he had caught the tail end of Ratchet's thoughts. 

::Fragger:: he sent, scowling on principle as he watched Ironhide drag his hand along his inner thigh, fingers trailing along the seams and leaving only heat in their wake.

:: _Fragger_ :: he repeated, with a little more insistence.

Ironhide responded by sending a pulse of charge through their cables. The electricity dancing along his circuits played accompaniment to a data burst of Ratchet; younger, and possibly louder, demanding that he stop messing about and overload him, frag it! _(Hurry up! Please! Pleasepleaseplease.)_

Vindictively, he sent back an image of the time he had restrained Ironhide in the medbay, the expression on his face caught between mild panic and arousal as Ratchet brandished a charge inhibitor _(after all, there was no rush...)_.

Ironhide only growled appreciatively, free hand sliding against his codpiece and up to his abdominal plating, always spreading warmth, working it up to a near blistering heat. Ratchet sighed, content as he returned his own burst of charge, easing into Ironhide's systems; nudging him towards this plate, or that transformation seam. 

Petulantly, Ironhide did everything but follow his suggestions; sending wave upon wave of charge through Ratchet's body. Not entirely surprised, but still indignant at the sudden turnaround, Ratchet reciprocated in kind.

Going back and forth in rapid exchanges, Ratchet laughed at the tingling that suffused his circuits. It had been too long since they'd last had this; time to themselves, time to be just a little bit carefree. 

Distracted by his laughter, Ironhide eventually slowed down, engine rumbling his approval. Ratchet, in turn, became distracted too- the thrum of Ironhide's plates against his own too much to ignore. 

Tilting his helm back against Ironhide's shoulder, he looked at him enquiringly, sending a small data packet. The red mech obliged him, tilting his own helm forward until their derma's brushed, a sharp burst of static sparking along their facial plating. Kissing was not so foreign to Cybertronians, but the humans' fondness for the activity had certainly raised its popularity amongst mechs on the Ark. 

Ratchet couldn't complain as he relaxed against Ironhide, fully enjoying the pleasant buzz of their joined EM fields, the vibrations at his back, and Ironhide's sheer presence against his lips _(against his body, in his circuits)_.

He could afford this moment of peace; he wasn't due for his shift in the medbay for another joor.

**Author's Note:**

> After the other IH/R I did, one of my friends prompted more in different styles of interfacing. I think after this, there'll be two more. Eventually.


End file.
